Issues
by Lissa Rae
Summary: Spike has issues. Just ask Willow. Originally published August 2000 in response to the Spike's Nail Polish Challenge.


Setting: Post Season 4, pre-season 5...Spike is implanted, Tara and Willow  
have broken up.

Brief description of the challenge: **Spike's Nail Polish Challenge**

_Requirements:  
1 - it must be somehow Spike/Willow  
2- Spike must be caught painting his nails black. (hehehe...)  
Optional  
1- the quote "I'm not a frog, I'm a princess in scuba gear"  
4 - the quote, "Yeah well I'd burst into a chorus of 'Wind Beneath My Wings'  
but I thought it'd go underappreciated. ("Did I ever tell you you're my  
hero..." or something like that.)_

* * *

Xander's basement was definitely *not* Spike's favorite place to stay. He  
hated listening to the geek and his annoying girlfriend bicker. But his  
crypt was being fumigated, and Giles had refused to take him. However, if  
he heard the word "sex" one more time, he was going to do something drastic.

"Xander..." Anya whined.

The boy in question sighed. "For the last time, I am not having sex with  
Spike here!"

"Aaah!!" Spike yelled in frustration, jumping out of his usual chair and  
running up the stairs. The last thing he heard as he slammed the door  
behind him was Anya. "Okay, he's gone--now can we have sex?"

The vampire roamed the streets for hours, unable to return home, and  
unwilling to pathetically ask for help. Not wanting to wander the whole  
night away, however, he was finally forced to seek shelter. Checking the  
nearest street sign, he found himself closest to Willow's house.

He made his way to the house quickly, and went around to the back to attract  
less attention. Relieved to see Willow's light still on, he was soon  
standing on the balcony, tapping lightly on the glass doors. The curtains  
were partly open, and he could see Willow sitting on the bed.

*~*~*

Willow looked up from her toenails, grabbing her squirt bottle of Holy water  
before asking who was there. When she heard Spike's voice, and saw a  
glimpse of bleached white hair through a gap in the curtains, she breathed  
a sigh of relief and invited him in, going back to painting her toenails.  
She would have gotten up to open the doors for him, but she didn't want to  
smear the polish.

Spike let himself in, going over to sit next to her on the bed. "What's  
going on, ducks?" he asked after a few minutes.

"We're having a slumber party," she replied, finishing the last toe and  
recapping the nail polish.

"We?" Spike asked, glancing around with a slight frown. If the Slayer was  
there, he might as well leave.

"Me and Miss Kitty," Willow explained, gesturing toward the kitten sleeping  
peacefully on one of the pillows. The feline in question opened her green  
eyes, staring balefully at them at the sound of her name before yawning  
widely and going back to sleep. "Want to join us?" the witch asked.

"Sure, don't have anywhere else to go," Spike replied.

Willow grinned. "Great. Take off your shoes."

"Do what?"

"Take off your shoes. I'm going to paint your toenails."

He frowned. "You'll do no such thing."

"What are you gonna do, go back to Xander's?" she asked innocently, her  
green eyes flashing mischievously. "This is what girls do at slumber  
parties," she said, wiggling her own painted toenails at him.

Spike gave up. "Fine," he sighed, leaning down to pull off his shoes and  
socks.

*~*~*

Half an hour later, he'd had a full pedicure. "Willow, you painted them  
lavender," he said, staring down at his feet in horror.

"Actually, its 'Tropical Sunrise'," she corrected him, taking his hand and  
beginning to file his nails. "Don't worry, none of the other vampires will  
know. Just wear socks," she teased him.

"If my fingernails end up the same color..." he threatened, glaring at her.

She giggled. "What, you'll lick me to death?" she said. "I'll be good,"  
she promised. "I'll do a nice respectable color." Pulling out a bottle of  
black polish, she showed it to him.

"That's better," he grumbled. "So what do we do after this?" he asked,  
watching as she carefully painted a nail, the tip of her tongue sticking out  
of her mouth in concentration.

"After this we watch a movie and break into my parent's liquor cabinet," she  
informed him.

His eyes lit up as his look changed to one of adoration. "We get to drink?  
I'd break into a chorus of "The Wind Beneath My Wings," but I think it'd be  
greatly under appreciated."

Willow giggled. "You're right. Please don't sing."

Spike pouted. "Hey, I'm good," he protested, frowning when she snorted in  
laughter. Scrambling off the bed, he got down on one knee in front of her.

"Did you ever know that you're my hero," he warbled at the top of his lungs.

Willow's eyes widened in momentary shock before she came to her senses,  
propelling herself off the bed and onto Spike's lap, using both hands to  
cover his mouth.

Seconds later, she ripped them away. "Eww!! Spike, you licked me!!"

He waggled his eyebrows licentiously at her, smiling when she started  
giggling and smacked his shoulder. "You're a nut," she teased him.

"I really am, aren't I?" he said, picking her up and carrying her into the  
living room.

With a flourish, he set her down on the couch, then headed towards the  
liquor cabinet. "I'll pour while you pick a movie. And no chick movies,"  
he added, sending an accusatory glare towards the cabinet where Willow kept  
her copies of "When Harry Met Sally," "Sleepless in Seattle," and "You've  
Got Mail."

"You didn't mind them last time," she grumbled.

"Luv, last time I was being nice. You'd just broken up with Witchy Girl,  
and I figured you deserved the right to watch Meg Ryan do something totally  
impossible and fall for Billy Crystal."

"I saw you crying," she teased him.

"I got margarita salt in my eye."

Willow snorted. "Right. Okay, fine, we'll watch a comedy," she sighed.  
"'Spaceballs,' "The Princess Bride," or "There's Something About Mary"?" she  
asked, already pulling out the well-worn copy of the one she knew he would  
pick.

"The Princess Bride," he answered automatically, while mixing their drinks.  
When he was done, he returned to the couch and sat down, smiling in delight  
when Willow curled up next to him and magicked a bowl of popcorn into his  
lap.

After a few minutes, he looked down at her. "Why aren't we dating?" he  
asked out of the blue.

She thought a minute, then looked up at him, her green eyes serious.  
"Because you have too many issues right now," she said seriously.

"I don't have issues, luv," Spike scoffed, frowning at her. "Do I?" he  
asked.

She gave him a half-hearted grin. "You spent more than a century with an  
insane vampiress, lost her when your Sire lost his soul for the second time,  
were implanted with a chip that made it impossible to follow your basic  
nature, almost married a woman who usually spends her time trying to kill  
you, and you're a terrible driver." She arched an eyebrow at him. "You  
know, I was wrong. You *don't* have any issues," she said sarcastically.

He sat there next to her, his mouth open in shock. "I am NOT a bad driver."

Willow laughed. "Spike, they had to raise taxes because you keep hitting  
the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign with your car," she teased him.

"That's the great thing about being dead," he joked. "You don't have to  
worry about tax hikes."

She laughed and snuggled against him. "I'll keep that in mind," she  
promised. "Now hush, I want to watch the movie."

Spike wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "As you wish."

*~*~*

An hour and a half later, Willow turned off the television, Spike asleep  
next to her. He hadn't made it past the Pit of Despair. She made a move to  
get up, pausing when Spike whimpered in his sleep and tightened her hold  
around her waist.

"...you're my hero...everything...wish I could be..." he mumbled. Willow  
snickered. He started mumbling again, and she leaned forward, straining to  
hear. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized what he had said.

"I'm not a frog, I'm a princess in scuba gear."

"Like I said," she muttered. "Issues."


End file.
